


Caffeine

by yell0wr0ses



Series: I'm a modified PS500 [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yell0wr0ses/pseuds/yell0wr0ses
Summary: Connor Anderson is a young detective with a self-destructive streak.Hank PS500 is specially modified for that.Neither of them are prepared for the oncoming storm of the android emancipation movement.





	Caffeine

**Author's Note:**

> Yes it's another reverse!AU sue me.

Detective Anderson was clearly a creature of habit if Detective Chen could pinpoint his location right down to the booth which diner booth he was currently half-asleep in.  Hank took the liberty of scanning him from a distance to determine the best approach.

 

SCANNING:

>>DETECTIVE CONNOR ANDERSON, 25

>>NO CRIMINAL RECORD

>>CURRENTLY EMPLOYED BY THE DPD

 

>>NICOTINE ON FINGERS

>>CREASED CLOTHING

>>>SLEEPING HERE FOR A WHILE?

>>CRIME SCENE PHOTOS ON TABLE

>>>WORKING NOT SLEEPING

 

CONCLUSION : GENTLE APPROACH?

 

“Hey, Detective Anderson?”

The young detective’s head snapped up from where it had been resting on his forearms to look Hank straight in the eye with unnerving stillness.

“Who’s asking?” That was not the voice Hank had expected, it had a somewhat…goofy? Weird? Unusual timbre to it. Anderson sounded young, looked young too if not for the beginnings of stress lines forming around his eyes and mouth.

“I’m Hank, the android sent by cyberlife. I’ll be your partner from today.”

“Partner?” Anderson frowned, his eyes flashed

“Yeah, Chief Fowler wants to see both of us in his office to brief you about the case.” Hank said slowly out of consideration for Anderson’s likely sleep deprived confusion.

“The Chief agreed to this…?” He seemed to mutter to himself as he stuffed the photos back into an overfilled manilla folder “What a sick joke.”

Anderson downed the two mugs of coffee on his right. By Hank’s assessment they should have been cold by now and judging by the young detective’s grimace he was right. His eyes flicked up to the android’s LED.

“What model are you?”

“I’m a modified PS500.” Hank blinked. Like a switch had been flipped, Anderson’s expression became carefully blank. He straightened his crooked tie. “My modifications include crime scene analysis hardware and protective sh-“

“I see...Keep close.” Anderson stood abruptly, walking purposefully out of the diner, across the road to the precinct and through said precinct to the Captain’s office. The sheer efficiency of the journey, not a single step or second wasted, suggested Anderson had made the same trip often.


End file.
